


Theory of Sherlock Holmes

by themoongod



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Kisses, Love, M/M, Strange Thoughts, Strange feelings, Tea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-26
Updated: 2019-01-28
Packaged: 2019-10-16 23:34:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17553872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themoongod/pseuds/themoongod
Summary: Watson has been having thoughts about Sherlock and Sherlock can say the same about Watson.





	1. Morning Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going to be doing more of this properly. This is just testing the water for now.

Sherlock Holmes was amazing, or so Doctor John Watson thought. He made it very clear over the time that he knew the detective. There was never a moment when he thought otherwise, not completely. Sherlock simply knew things that no one else could ever dream of knowing, and he knew it from the most impossible method. He read it as if reading a book. Now, that was amazing. 

Watson watched Sherlock with wonder, observing his every movement Sherlock glanced up from his newspaper, “Could you be any louder?” Watson had only been living with Sherlock for a couple of months, but still, on some days he felt like he completely understood him – all his little movements and annoyed snaps. And then there were also days where he made no sense at all. This was one of the latter days. 

“I didn’t say anything-” 

“The question is, did you need to?” 

“I-” 

“Please keep it down,” Sherlock shut him down quickly before returning to the newspaper. Watson sighed, rising from his seat and wandering over to the kettle. 

“Want a drink?” 

“Please,” Sherlock didn’t even glance up, yet Watson still found himself amazed by him. There was simply something about the man. 

He filled the kettle then watched Sherlock as he waited for it to boil. He didn’t know what it was – perhaps it was his genius brain, observant eyes or handsome high cheek bones. The last one surprised John. Did he actually think that to himself? Watson blinked, eyes still on Sherlock, but completely registering what was happening. His mind too confused and focused on his own, somewhat different thoughts – he somehow missed Sherlock looking up at him again and when he did realize, it was a shock. 

Sherlock frowned before clearing his throat. John jumped, blinking his eyes again. 

“Everything okay, John?” Sherlock stood up, walking up to him, “Are you ill?” 

“No, no... Fine, everything is just fine!” Watson said a little too quickly before turning to face the kettle, pouring out the now boiled water into the mugs. 

“I don’t believe it-” 

“I said I’m fine. Leave it, Sherlock.” 

Sherlock reached to touch his shoulder then recoiled back with a wince, as if it physically hurt him. This made Watson feel guilty. It wasn’t Sherlock’s fault that Watson couldn’t control his thoughts. That Watson was questioning his thoughts for him. But the damage was done. Sherlock shook his head and went back to his seat, picking up the newspaper and hiding behind it. 

Watson finished the drinks and then placed Sherlock’s directly in front of him and the newspaper. A quiet ‘thank you’ was heard and then nothing else. John sighed, pulling the newspaper away. 

“Look at me, Sherlock.” 

“I am looking at you.” 

“Then look at me and listen without tuning out,” The doctor added, shaking his head. 

“Fine-” 

“I’m sorry,” 

“What?” 

“I said I’m sorry,” 

“Why?” 

“What do you mean why? What do you think?” 

“Ah,” Sherlock sighed before picking up his mug, holding it up in front of his face. 

“What?” Sherlock was making Watson more irritated by the second, “What the bloody hell do you mean by ah?” 

“I thought you was going to apologize for something else, but I was mistaken-” 

“For something else? I haven’t done anything else!” 

“For something you haven’t done-” 

“I am so sorry for not being good enough for your-” 

“You’re mistaken, I-” 

“Mistaken? Is this because of that mistake I made on the-” 

“Doctor John Watson, shut your mouth and let your brain do the work for once!” 

“I-” 

“Shut. Up. And. Think.” Sherlock put empathise on every word. 

“I... I don’t understand...” 

“Doctor John Watson...” The detective said again, but this time his words were softer. Watson watched him quietly, watching him lean it. Watching him hesitate before Sherlock kissed him. John jumped back immediately. 

Sherlock looked at him. 

Watson shook his head quickly, “You’re married to your work, you said that you were married-” 

“Just shut up and kiss me, idiot,” Sherlock looked at him as John’s cheeks flushed bright red. 

Then he did as he was told. It was brief, but enough. They didn’t speak about it. They didn’t have to. They were both there. 

Until the next kiss...


	2. Bloody Kisses and Confusion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short again, sorry, I haven't had a lot of time but I really like writing this.

John opened his tired eyes and blinked at his best friend’s empty chair. He had obviously fallen asleep during a long period of time spent reading some boring book about an absentminded detective – come to think of it, it did sound awfully familiar. 

He blinked again, only just taking in that Sherlock wasn’t there. Now the tables had turned, it was normally Sherlock’s job to not notice when John wasn’t around. Watson shrugged – worst case scenario was that Sherlock had wandered off on some wild case without him. Or gotten into heated argument with some unlucky, poor member of the police. Neither worried John Watson too much, if anything, it would worry him if Sherlock hadn’t. 

He put aside his book before yawning, climbing to his feet and stretching as he did so. He had no idea of why he was so tired. Most likely the amount of running he did on an almost daily bases. Or the constant thoughts he had about the kiss shared with Sherlock. A small smile passed his lips for a second before vanishing. John made his way to the kitchen, switching on the kettle. The very thought of that shared kiss occupied his mind as he waited for the kettle to boil, in fact, he almost didn’t notice when the kettle had finished. He poured the ‘water’ into a mug, but decided to leave it after all – the substance was a bright green and smelt terrible. The doctor paused, cursing Sherlock silently before going back to his seat. 

There didn’t seem to be much to do apart from reading this book. So, he picked it up and attempted its long pages again. And promptly fell asleep as well. Time passed by. Seconds became minutes and minutes became hours. Before long, morning had arrived yet again. 

The door slammed shut pulling John back into reality. He sat up straight, book falling to the floor. Sherlock stood in front of him covered in hopefully not his own blood. John assumed it wasn’t for he wore a grin that managed to slice his face in half. Apart from bright blood and wide smile, nothing was out of the normal – tight(ish) suit, high cheek bones and dark, curly hair. The doctor let himself fall back into his comfy, worn chair. 

“I trust that isn’t your blood, Sherlock.” 

“Does it look like my blood?” 

“You’re too cheerful, but I wouldn’t put it past you.” 

“My dear Watson,” Sherlock cooed gently, about to perch next to Watson. Watson pointed at him and spoke through gritted teeth. 

“If you get blood on my chair, it will not be Moriarty who you’ll need to worry about!” 

“It’ll be fine. I’m a detective, I know how to wash away blood stains,” The detective dismissed before trying to talk again, “I just finished an amazing case and you missed it!” 

“I was reading if that helps-” 

“Reading?! When you could be-” 

“About a detective actually-” 

“I despise books with-” 

“And he reminded me of you-” 

“Oh, let me talk! Hush! Your stupidity is showing, Watson!” 

“Fine, go one-” 

“Thank you! At last! Anyway...” Sherlock trailed off, eyes on John. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“Your eyes...” 

“What about my eyes?” 

Sherlock just looked at him quietly before falling back into his own chair, still watching his best friend. He didn’t answer Watson, nor did he attempt to. Watson shook his head and went to pick up his book.” 

“Watson...” 

“What now, Sherlock?” Watson licked his lower lip. 

“Can I ask you something personal?” 

“Do you need to? You read people like walking books, why ask anything to anyone.” 

“Because there are some topics that I do not understand.” 

“Like? I doubt it.” 

“Love. I know the tell-tale signs of ‘love’, but not love itself.” 

“Sherlock, are you okay?” 

“Do you love me?” 

“You’re my best friend, Sherlock, what the bloody hell are you on today?” 

“I don’t mean that.” 

“Then what in the world do you mean?” 

“Do you love me? Like truly, as more than a friend, love me?” 

“I don’t know what to say-” 

“Say anything-” 

“I can’t. I just can’t.” 

“Oh...” Sherlock trailed off again, refusing to look at his best friend. He didn’t notice as Watson wandered over to him until he kissed him. More than a brief kiss this time. Sherlock couldn’t help kissing back. 

 

Till the next kiss...


End file.
